otherversefandomcom-20200215-history
The Wall - Thayndor
Snowfall Basin ---- ::Located in the north-western quarter of Crown's Refuge, the area known as Snowfall Basin is quite an impressive sight indeed. Delicately balancing nature with culture, Snowfall Basin maintains the Syladris population of the freehold by providing them with a large area that remains suited to needs that have only recently been discovered. ::Set around the basin itself - a bowl-shaped cold water depression carved into the surface of the bluff that Crown's Refuge sits atop - it is unusual by just how much it differs from the Human residences just towards the east. Open-air pavilions and gazebos provide much of the structures that the Syladris call home, while leather tents scattered between these more permanent structures offer a more suitable means of privacy than the depths of the water should such things be required. ::A number of deciduous and evergreen species of tree have been planted amidst the area, turning the "Syaldris Quarter" into one small forest around the large stretch of water. Some pavilions stand taller than others, indicative of status within the newly forged cultural identity that the Syladris are attempting to shape, though all that can be seen feature flowing couches and benches that serve to adequately support and provide comfort for such an unusual half-breed race when they're not otherwise coiled around an overhanging branch or lost beneath ripples of icy water. ::A blanket of fallen leaves and short, lush grasses surround the basin and the various structures and statues that inhabit the area, all contained within a short marble wall that defines the perimeter of this large region of natural beauty and architecture. Paved trails leading towards the east and south lead back to their respective pathways, while the shadow of Tempest Spire looms ever-present towards the southeast. ---- Flowing like greenish-black water, a skittering mass begins to gather to the northeast just out of longbow range and slowing to a stop. A booming warble like a two ton sparrow clearing its throat booms across the Refuge, and then a voice, the same one heard eighteen days ago, echoes through, shaking windowpanes with its smooth tenor. "Greetings, Crown's Refuge. Seventeen days have passed, and still, I have seen no Hand. I even gave you an extra day, lest you forgot me so soon. As I am merciful and wish only for peace, I will extend one more olive branch to you: surrender the Hand now, and I may even spare your Archmage. You have five minutes to comply, otherwise I will assume your consent towards a change in leadership and military of your fair city. I do hope you make the right choice. Peace be with you." The warbling sound is heard once more, then silence. Shining argentite marks the blackscale Syladris atop the wall, where he is coiled behind a low battlement, cocking that arbalest and laying a bolt in the race. He .. watches. Patiently, that new shield against the stone, his expression serene. Wolfsbane and his companion rangers turn their attention towards that mass of creatures. Conversation ceases during, and after, the ultimatum. Reaching out his hand, Vhramis seeks Celeste's to give it a brief squeeze. At a soft word, Velvel lies low beside Blackfox who sets bundles of arrows and bolts along the wall for the archers to use. She, too, stands with arbalest in hand, watching and waiting. At the words, she looks over to Thayndor, frowning before turning her attention back to the spidery horde. Coming in at a trot from the south are three figures in dark cloaks and girded for war: Thayndor Zahir, the sword-wielding Deeper known as Shar Ashleather, and another man in Darkwater livery with a longbow. Shar, muttering something to him as they go along, refers to this man as Thain. ::The two behind him are stoic, but Thayndor's face is a troubled mask: brow deeply furrowed, a dark shadow cast across the tattoo on his face. The hands clutching his longbow are white-knuckled and worry back and forth. He walks with a determination that may, depending on one's perspective, either confirm his anger or bely his fear. Or, possibly, both. ::With a grunt and a growl, Thayndor ascends the wall and comes to stand beside Aeseyri, nocking an arrow. "My name is Thayndor Zahir," he says, as his companions move to flank him. Shar Ashleather draws her sword. "I made a choice you may not have liked. If I was right, it will save us all. If I was wrong, I'll be dying today with the rest of you." Stormy-faced, he becomes wordless now. Shadowing Blackfox, a woman dressed in the livery of the Havensguard stands ready, bow in hand though her attention is split between the acarits and her diminutive charge. Celeste returns the gentle squeeze. A shiver runs down her shine, and for a moment, her hand seems to tremble in his. Though it does not last for a fleeting second before she takes a step back and readies her mace. Aeseyri flashes... a grin, to Thayndor, a grin of too many sharp teeth. "It isss a choicssse. Even making one isss brave." He draws a slow breath, raising the stock to his shoulder, and looking down at the black mass below. Wolfsbane aknowledges Thayndor with a slight nod of his head, though his eyes don't leave the distant gathering force. "We've our will. And that will carry us through. It needs to," he murmurs, perhaps to Celeste, or to the other ranger at his side. Or maybe just to himself. Down the wall, the blood guard raises crossbows and bows, knocking arrow and bolt, readying themselves - while the hunters and trackers that have chosen to stand with the refuge do the same. Blackfox says nothing, swallowing hard as she watches, pausing to nervously flex her fingers, stretching them beside the trigger of her weapon and practically holding her breath. Thayndor Zahir glances aside at Vhramis, eyebrows raising. He nods. "Our Church is the field of battle," he says, as if reciting a snatch of quote Vhramis might know. He draws his bowstring taut, raising the bow. "Service, I think, is about to begin." The green mass seems to writhe, organizing itself into more soldierly rows. Popping like pearly sunbursts from tiny acarit bodies, the entire front line begins to form diaphonous shields. "So be it," comes the voice, somewhat quieter. "Be at peace with the fate you have chosen for yourselves." "We will see tomorrow," Celeste replies and nods to Vhramis's words. A quick nod given to Thayndor. "So it is." Her gaze slips back to the moving green mass. ::The walls of the refuge are high, torchlit and anchored by watchfires at either end. Here, on the northern wall, the bulk of the blood-guard has gathered - looking down into the valley below, down beyond the wall and farther, past the edge of the bluff on which the refuge sits, and across the rocky scree to the camp with its white tents and watchfires. ::Below, in the valley, the chittering and alien speech of the acarit, spread like a dark stain winking with blue stars, rises to a crescendo as the beasts march, skittering forward over the ground. It's deceptive - each one is small (ish) - perhaps the size of two fists together, with legs giving them a width of only a yard, but they move like lightning, clamboring across rock and scree and heading for the foot of the wall. While their numbers are vast, thankfully, they are not innumerable - just many. Yet, even so... among them winks to life marks of the Shadow. The front row has sprouted glittering half-spheres of geodesic energy, dozens more flickering, fading - several looking insubstantial, one even sprouting wings. But worst, worst of all, are those at the rear, where flickering eldritch flame, arcs of lightning, and blue-violet spheres of energy begin to swirl and form, their own glowing blue eyes fixed on the wall. There, staring down at the ground, the Syladris (who should have rolled at +2 and didn't) simply... fires. What time is there for words? Instead, there is only a time for bolt, and then ducking back, already starting to recock, reload. "I've never seen such a thing," states Vhramis in a half breath, watching the roiling mass as it begins to surge forward. The six pathfinders nock and draw, taking sight, and after a moment, Wolfsbane mirrors the action. "Once the ones in the back come into range...we should focus on them," he advises to his comrades, who return the statement with quiet grunts as they open fire with the rest of the pallisade. In the moments before before the charge, Blackfox trembles, closing her eyes and resting her forehead for a moment against the stock of her arbalest. She takes a deep breath as they advance, sighting down the length of her weapon and taking careful aim for the winged one, seeing it as the more immediate threat. Beside her, Serena simply aims for the nearest target, firing off an arrow from her longbow. As the Acarit horde approaches, Thayndor's expression changes. His breathing quickens before he draws a deep breath and holds it, sighting -- for a gap between the geodesic spheres near the front row. Distracted, he responds to Vhramis. "They will come in time," he agrees, as his lip curls and anger and fear turn to intense concentration. ::A snarl leaves his lips: a long-drawn-out syllable, a mantra, a challenge. ::"... Arrrrrrr," he growls, defiantly, as he exhales. He releases his first arrow, one of a great hail of projectiles rising gracefully and then falling with deceptive elegance towards the oncoming swarm -- a dark cloud to momentarily blot out the setting sun . ::Thain, without a battle-cry, sends an arrow to join Thayndor's. ::Shar Ashleather half-crouches among the archers, out of the way, waiting to defend the wall. ::Swiftly but without haste, Thayndor draws another shaft and nocks it against the string of his longbow. Celeste tightens her grip to the mace and watches the approaching group. Though she ducks her head. Angelic wings unearth from her back, curling about her body. Anticipation and the silent prayer fades as she waits for the first wave to breach the wall. ::All down the wall, the Blood guard draw and fire with... perhaps unsurpising order. Bows and crossbows emit a mighty twang as they fire, arcing down into the advancing ranks, while the more irregular help fires at will, a bit more ragged but with no less spirit. ::Arrows fly out, flying and falling in among the packed an onrushing ranks of blue eyes and legs - and the storm certainly finds its marks. Aeseyri's bolt shatters a shield, while Vhamris's arrow glances off harmlessly. The pathfinder's arrows rattle and fall among the ranks - what effect they have is debatable. Bolt after bolt strikes home - Fox skewers the one already leaping up with wings, while Thayndor and Shar blast apart magickal protections with bolt and bowshot. The blood guard's arrows take their toll, as do the hunters - but still they come, moving forward, reaching the bottom of the wall and leaving their dead... not enough dead!.. behind. ::From the rear of their ranks comes the roar of flame and the thunder of lightning, their own ranged fighters joining the fight. Aesyri simply... pops back up to fire one more bolt from that arbalest - aiming this time farther afield, into the line of those who wield fire against the wall. Terrible red fire arcs in against the gathered rangers, rousing cries of alarm. Vhramis and company duck and attempt to move out of the way, but the blast is far too effective. In a burst and explosion, and with deadly efficiency, half of the company of rangers are blown off the wall, smoldering and charred bodies falling down to the city below. Barely having avoided the blast, Wolfsbane and the survivors are left gawking at the sudden loss, staring upon the point where their brothers and sisters had stood just moments before. Shaking, they rise again, taking aim upon the gathered mass below, aiming for the mages this time. Blackfox keeps low, down on one knee and using the wall for cover as she aims for those in the back row now, trying to pick off those throwing lighting bolts and fireballs at the wall. Serena, meanwhile, continues to just fire away into the thick of the crowd, aiming for the nearest target. Thayndor Zahir and Thain duck instinctively as the flame forms a second setting sun, then explodes against the ramparts. Jaw working, he growls wordless defiance and straightens. "Avenge them," he tells Thain, voice oddly dispassionate, as he looses an arrow towards the evokers. ::Thain, apparently taking his cues from the Lord of Darkwater, takes a moment longer to collect himself before he, too, fires towards the mages. ::Shar Ashleather steps forward between the archers, half-crouching to gaze murderously down at the chitinous horde below. "Come on, then," she husks, with a voice normally dulset, magefire cruelly reflected along the length of her blade. Behind her, the two other Deepers nock arrows to their bows once more. Celeste's eyes widen at the crackle of lightning. Dressed in the half-plate, she tries to the dodge to the side. One of the wings whips about the armor clad woman. The light succumbs to the wing and dissipates. ::The blood guard holds the line, grimly - firing into the onrushing numbers, the irregulars following suit. All down the line is the cry 'HOLD!' - and arrow after arrow is launched. ::Though some of the blood guard has fallen, and some of the irregulars burned or felled - All down the front lines, those mage shields are gone - shattered in turn by arrowstrike and the concerted fire of the blood guard. More Acarit join the ranks of the dead - the pathfinders avenging their brothers in kind, while Thayndor and those small deepers account for themselves well. Even Aeseyri's bolt shatters another shield - Fox's is barely dodged, while the Havensguard hunter's goes wide in its own turn. ::The beasts are halfway up the wall, now - soon, they will be among the defenders. Already, half the blood guard steps up with shield and weapon, ready to repel the fist-sized things, while the other half continues to fire. ::Still, fire and lightning arc forth, the line of spider-beasts making themselves known in the eldritch assault of shadow against the bulwark. ::For the vast majority, the concerted fire at the wall - designed to sweep it clean - is a mere inconvenience, the angle too great and, while heat and noise and fear... it does little damage. Thayndor, apparently, hasn't yet learned when to duck, however... Aeseyri calmly puts that Arbalest back in place, hoisting shield, reading sword. He even moves in front of Thayndor (the not ducking thing apparently having caught his eye). Faintly - barely visible around him - one might get the sense of calm, of argent-white wings barely visible at the edge of vision, flickering to very faint life around him as his resolve hardens. The additional twin fireballs streaking towards the wall cause the pathfinders to seek cover once again, staying down just long enough for the shock of the blast to pass, before they dart upwards again. Again, the distant evokers are targetted, four extra arrows arcing into the night, before they back away, preparing for the soon to come melee. Blackfox ducks lower even though she was already keeping low, the heat of the fireball causing her to cringe. Popping back up as little as possible, she fires off another shot as Serena does the same. In a show of that intense, bloody-minded defiance that seems to be the Deeper trademark so far, fires a final shot towards the deadly mages before tucking away his bow. He turns to call to his archer. "Repel boarders!" He says -- to which the man responds, "Repel boarders," nods, and then tucks away his bow to draw a knife instead -- and when he turns to face the battlements with weapon drawn, he finds himself face to face with a ball of fiery flame. ::The Zahir doesn't blink -- just twitches his head to the side at exactly the right moment, and the magefire roars past his face to disappear into the growing night. For all his bravado, however, Thayndor cannot avoid a blatantly stunned expression just for a moment. Finally, he blinks, smoke drifting from his head. There is the smell of singed hair. ::"Shades," the Lord of Darkwater, newly bald, quietly exclaims. "I'm still alive." He sounds surprised. ::It appears he has at least retained his eyebrows. Again the wings curls about the Mikin, trying to shield her even as she drops to her knees. The skittering and flares passing soon has her stumbling back to her feet to begin defending the walls from the creatuers. ::Still the blood guard fire, their order firm - the more irregular assistants look rattled, shaken... but they do what they can. In both cases, the fireballs have claimed several; yet they are largely unscathed, brave in the face of the eldritch. ::Arrows take their toll - more and more acarit twitch, and lay immobile. Fox cleanly skewers one that flickers into existence with a burst of black smoke; the pathfinders and Vhramis take their toll in the bargain. Apparently, Thayndor's near brush from death makes him just overconfident enough that the acarit dodges him - and remarkably, while the Blood Guard's fire is less telling, the hunters rally to face their fear and take their own. ::The hand-size spiders' dead litter the field - their numbers rapidly thinning - but now, now the strike the front lines, the men, women, and syladris with wicker shield and blade defending the ramparts of the wall against the acarit intenting on punching through to the city beyond. The goop splats against those faint wings.... and then they are gone, green slime splatting to the top of the wall, the Syladris visibly rattled as he stabs, trying to keep those black beasts from gaining purchase, blade flickering in wide circles. The acarits top the wall, leaping at the remaining pathfinders. Mindless shouting answers their attack, the meaning and emotion lost as melee is joined, and one of the remaining is taken by a beast directly in the chest, brought down to the pallisade. Vhramis and the last two respond in a flurry of flashing knives, losing themselves in the moment. Backing away, Blackfox turns to sweep the wall with her gaze, jaw dropping open at the sight of the Syladris' glowing wings. Seeing how shaken this leave him, though, galvanizes the little huntress who snaps the arbalest up and fires off a shot at the one that had struck him with the goop. Behind her, Serena yelps in surprise as she goes to fire only to find the target leaping much closer than anticipated. Taking in the situation, Fox turns then to leap on Velvel's back, dragging Serena with her as she retreats from the wall. Thayndor Zahir and Shar exchange glances just before the acarits pounce. They trade the barest of nods, snarling, "Arrrr:" A rebellious growl and a unifying battle cry at the same time. ::When the beasts jump at them, they move in tandem, as if rehearsed: Both sidestep and swing their swords in neat horizontal arcs, so that where the spiders expected to find their bodies, they will -- unless they somehow manage to dodge in midair -- find only steel. ::Thain lunges forward with his knife, ready to clean up the mess left behind by his comrades -- either literally or figuratively. Finding an acarit left to strike, he would stab it, or, failing that, simply flick chitinous debris from the wall, keeping the floor free enough for his comrades to fight. Celeste's wings dance on the air about her glowy form, drawing closed and then spreading back as though in flight. Yet when they close to protect against the goop, and it slides from the wings. A mace is brought to bear against one of the nearby acarits. ::Around the warriors aiding them, the Blood Guard steps up into the gap, one last storm of arrows flying over the wall, down into the advancing group... Shield and Sword and Mace are put to good use, as battle is joined. ::The irregulars start down the ladders, moving out into the basin, taking up firing positions there. ::Once the battle becomes close and hectic, the speed of the little beasts proves difficult to overcome. The Blood Guard is hard pressed to hold them; the top of the wall becomes a massive melee of armor and blade and small furry spiders screaming defiance. Down below, the irregulars ready arrows again - grimly, stabbing several into the earth at their feet. ::Blackfox's bolt cleanly cuts the one spitting nonsense at Aeseyri in half, however, sending it hurtling over the wall, as Thayndor's and Shar's cuts find mostly air, the spiders almost impossibly fast. Even Vhramis's blades do not find clean purchase, though celeste crushes a leg of on near her, as it keens in pain. ::The assault is joined, regardless - more goop arcs at Aeseyri and Celeste - the beasts apparently very interested in bringing them down, while the rest enjoy being leaped at, fang and leg doing their best to find purchase. Green snot splatters against Aes's shield, the Syladris raising it quickly to ward off the incoming balls of goo - it hardens there, solidifying, making the shield ungainly.. but it does enough, preventing him from being enmeshed. Hissing defiance, the broad cuts with that blade grow more focused, as he does his best to fight them back, away... The black garbed pathfinder's blades connect with nothing but air, their rush sending them charging through, and open to attack from behind. Skidding across the fire blacked rock, Wolfsbane's eyes widen slightly as a single perfect note becomes audible. Heard to nobody but himself. Legs flex, sending the ranger turning into a backwards spinning flip, a leaping acarit passing underneath him. The other two pathinders duck and weave away from their own assailants, and in a surge, the three again launch an attack. Blackfox neatly ducks beneath the acarit as it leaps for her, Serena following suit as the archer twists away, letting the creature soar past her as the two jump onto Velvel's back. With a soft word in the wolf's ear, the lupine surges forward, leaping down off the wall by the fastest path she can find, putting distance between her companion and the wall. "Line!" Thayndor barks, as the Deepers are leapt at a second time. The Lord of Darkwater and Shar Ashleather move with that practiced coordination yet again, juking quickly back as Thain ducks to the side. The three form a solid line between the acarits and the irregulars waiting below -- but it is not so simple, as Shar lets out an angry bark as her foe strikes her. Brow knitting, she strikes back with vigor, and all three Deepers fight their opponents one-on-one. Flutter and dive, wings close to block and brush away the green glob of goo. Celeste half pivots to try and draw the mace down again to another of the scittering beasts. Intent on the fight, she misses the flips and dancing of the rangers. ::The blood Guard still fights - several of their number lie still - several more are glued to various bits of wall and become a hazard to footing and waving of weapon. regardless, the battle stays high, on the wall - a few acarit start to break past the line, heading down for the irregulars and the archers that have dove from the wall.. ::The battle is to hectic to call... but the irregulars seem heartened, by whatever it is they see. Velvel's smooth leap takes it down - but not before at Fox's urging the beast crushes a spider in massive jaws - the havensguard on the beast's back taking down yet another, this with a flicked dagger produced from within an armguard. ::The pathfinders fight a desperate battle amidst quick-moving spiders - not losing ground, but gaining little in turn, while Thayndor manages to skewer one. Shar... shar is not so lucky. Not one, but three of the beasts drag her down, fangs sinking home as the Deeper fights to her last. ::Celeste's own battle is as inconclusive as the rest - but the blood guard pushes, pushes... ::Though acarit start to get past the line, handfuls moving down into the basin after the irregulars, the tide here seems to be turning. Battle continues, however - green spit and leaping forms in equal measure.. Perhaps it is a gambit, a desperate attempt to breach the wall here - ... ::Down in the basin, the Irregulars go from cheering to screaming. Seven acarit ... shimmer and /appear/ out of nowhere.. not with the buzzing of Teleportation, but simply appearing as they leap at irregulars, dragging several down and gluing several more. Aeseyri's blade claims one, certainly - and that heavy shield takes yet another spattering of green goo, the Syladris fighting hard. Most dangerous, however, is the acarit that skitters under the shield and up, onto his breastplate, seeking to sink sharp fangs between points in chainmail and armguard - the blackscale hissing in pain as it does. ::He tries to bash at with his shield, the simple expedient of crushing it with the edge of metal, but others are lurking to capitalize on that... ::Velvel leaps down, landing lightly at the base of the wall... only to be splattered with green goo that solidifies quickly, gluing hindquarters to the ground, then a forepaw. Panic sets in.. but more, that goo risks enveloping her riders.. Vhramis can only glance briefly down at the sudden screams of panic below, before he's forced to commit himself fully to the melee at hand. "We need to move," he barks to his two surviving comrades. The pair abruptly fall back from their opponents, before crossing past each other in a sudden switching of targets, seeking to gain surprise, while Wolfsbane rushes forward towards his same. Blackfox rolls off of the wolf, pulling Serena with her, "Pull, girl, pull!" she shouts, glancing up at the wall to make certain there was no pursuit as she lifts her arbalest and aims at the creatures that had magicked themselves behind their lines. "There, Serena, stop them!" The cry of triumph as Thayndor steps on the spider impaled upon his blade, pulling it free, is cut short by the screams of his falling Captain of the Guard. Though he is caught distracted for the second time -- watching as his trusted Captain of the Guard falls beneath a pile of fist-sized evils -- yet again instinct guides him to narrowly avoid a deadly missile. His eyes lift upwards from Shar's death, and he sees the Irregulars in trouble. ::Grimly, he thrusts at the critter close to hand, trying to kill his retainer, rather than the one still some distance away attempting to immobilize him. ::Thain, making an ineffectual stab at the same creature, seems to need the help. ::"Vhramis!" He calls to the other Fasthelder leader. "Join our line!" Wings dive to hide away the Mikin with the spittle of green. Though when it strikes, wings and goo disappear. A growl elicits from the glowing scourge as she drives the mace down to another acarit. "Got it," she calls over her shoulder. Possibly a comment to the ranger's words. ::A cry goes up among the Blood Guard - "HOLD! They falter!" - and they press on, trying to hold the wall, as the irregulars do what they can to defend themselves from the oncoming ground attack.. ::The battle has swung firmly in the favor of the defenders, here - though Aes's clinging beast continues clinging, the Syladris struggling with removing it as it hisses and tries, frankly, to kill him. Vhamris doesn't strike home, but one of his pathfinders does, their move taking the little beasts by surprise and netting another dead; Fox's bolt cleans up one going after the Irregulars nearby. Even Thayndor and Celeste claim their targets, giving forward momentum to the Blood Guard, who stall despite. ::Below, the irregulars are in worse trouble - three more of their number going down as they try to fend off the assault... and taking one more of the little beasts with them. ::Yet.. though there is a sense that the acarit resolve crumbles, they fight on still - even as their numbers thin.. ::So too, do the numbers of the guard. With another pained hiss, Aes takes yet more damage from the clinging beast. he fends off another's leap, the shield ungainly - but goop splats against armor, shoving the Syladris back against the bulwark, his shield-arm pinned to it. In desperation, the blackscale drops his blade, grabbing for the biting beast and trying to throw it away, over the wall, anywhere but on /him/... The slaying pathfinder rips her blade from the stabbed spider creature, twisting the movement into a smooth dodge of another of the leaping beasts, before again flinging herself at a new foe. The second of the pathfinders, having avoided another attack, and perhaps noticing Aes' plight, twists round to dart over and aid him, working to help him be rid of the clinging and tearing acarit. Wolfsbane gasps out as he's finally clipped, staggering as the creature grasps onto him. With a growl, the ranger turns about, driving at the edge of the pallisade to ram his shoulder, and the clinging monster, against the hard stone. Having cleared the way for Thain -- if only momentarily -- Thayndor ducks and weaves through the cloying goop and grasping claws of the acarits to leap to Aeseyri's aid, taking a slash at one of the acarits not actually clinging to the Syladris. Shield raised, his footwork places him between the blackscale and further attack. ::Thain, ducking after Thayndor, is about to engage the critter that attempted to pounce on his liege when a bolt of fey lightning energizes his form. Limned in violet light, the Deeper screams as all of his muscles lock, and he falls forward. His head strikes the battlements, and, still screaming though he is doubtless already dead, he topples forward down onto the bodies of their fallen enemies. Blackfox nimbly dives out of the way, rolling to the side to avoid getting struck by the green mass of goop. Serena barely manages to get out of the way but both are free to fire and continue to unleash bolts and arrows into the acarits fighting the irregulars, looking to stem the tide and stop the breach as Velvel struggles to free herself. Celeste tries to dodge the green goop, but it seems the tide has turned for the Mikin. The swing of the mace goes wide as she tries to dodge first the greenness and then the launching acarit. ::The Blood Guard roar - beginning what is the beginning of the end, wrapping up the assault on the wall as Acarit begin to flee, small forms leaping back, down the wall to the drakesreach. The irregulars are hardest pressed, doing what they can to do damage to those there... ::While Vhamris struggles with the one on his own body - Aes and the Pathfinder manage to get that one off of /him/, flinging it down into the valley below. It doesn't help the Syladris from being glued to the wall, mind, but he struggles and pulls at the gluey snot, trying to wrestle free, with a remarkable lack of success so far. Celeste, too, discovers the joy of being stuck to the battlement... while Fox and the other pathfinder both account for two more. Down below, several more irregulars fall - a few of the guard.. ::But the Acarit here have had enough. The remaining dozen bolt for the wall, and down, fleeing, morale broken.. a thing that saves Celeste from further ravaging from the one still on her. ::To the east, the sounds of desperate battle continue - and you know? Wouldn't it be Vhamris's that has become rabid, just /not/ letting go. ::Around Velvel, the goo hardens, making escape unaided effectively impossible. Aes, too, is going nowhere, struggling growing more frantic - and less effective as it solidifies around him, his hissing getting a note of fear in it as blood drips from his arm. Wolfsbane misses entirely, striking at the wall just as the acarit skitters out of the way to cling to another part of his body, biting. The ranger grunts loudly at the impact, before forcing himself to slow down. With a glower at the creature, he lifts one of his blades to simply work to slice it off of him. Aes's assistant continues to work to help unstick him, doing as he can to free the syladris' arms, while the second pathfinder finds herself free to rush to Celeste's aid. Blackfox looks to two of the irregulars nearby, pointing to her wolf, "Help her...please?" she begs as her eyes meet those of her lupine companion, "I must go," she whispers, turning to run eastward, "Serena, come with me...they need help to the east!" she calls back. Thayndor Zahir yells after the acarits, his voice a hoarse wordless cry, before he sheathes his sword. "Peace, defender of Crown's Refuge," he pants down to Aeseyri, raising his shield and planting his feet. "We will free you." He looks over his shoulder to the east, as the cries of war continue, and returns his eyes to the Syladris. He shoulders his shield and gets a grip on Aeseyri's tail, looking over at the Pathfinder trying to free him. Raising his voice, he cries: ::"Fastheldans, eastward if you've still the strength and stones to lift a blade!" Celeste smiles wanly to the pathfinder. The Mikin shifts and wrestles with the goo, but between the two... she comes free. Granted, the goo tries to cling to hands and she stumbles a step or two. A quick assessment of those that remain. The blood guard surges along the wall - "TO ARMS, FOR THE LADY!" And east they go - some doing down the ladders to make better time - a detachment remains to hold the space. Behind, the iregulars start east as well, some falling behind to take care of the wounded. That last acarit is skewered by an expert flick of Vhramis' blade - but clings still like a dead bracelet, a fashion accessory for the day. Tenacious, isn't it. Aeseyri is slowly cut free, wrestling out of the hardened stuff with a great deal of help - "Thanksss to you - my sssword - " He is already casting about for it - "We musst go help them..." Vhramis grunts and leaves the clinging creature, glancing over to Celeste, and then to Aes, considering their states briefly, before he turns to dash down the battlements towards the east. "Form up!" he shouts to his two comrades. The two rangers nod to Celeste and Aes, before turning to dash off. Thayndor Zahir straightens, nudging the sword's hilt closer to the Syladris' hand with a boot. He nods. "I don't deserve your thanks, Wildlander. My Deepers --" hoarse, his voice cracks, and he hisses the rest -- "My Deepers died on your wall this night because by fighting them before the gates of your home I avoid having to fight them in the halls of my /own/." He draws his longbow again, and picks his pace up into a jog. "Vhramis!" He calls. "I am alone. I will fight alongside you." On the run, he nocks an arrow. Northern Pathway ---- ::The northern artery of the independent freehold known as Crown's Refuge is known quite simply as the Northern Pathway; a road of smooth cobbles, wide enough for two carriages to pass with space to spare, that runs a perfect north-south route between Tempest Corona to the south, and the northern palisade wall. ::The cobbles of the pathway are not only smooth and level, but also seem to have been born from a variety of different types of stone, giving each one a distinct color as it rests next to all the others. Hues of brown, gold, bronze, slate, charcoal, and a myriad of other shades all conspire together to make such a route more affluent than it really needs to be. ::The sides of the pathway are protected by low-rising curbs that mark where the road ends and the rest of the large township begins. Beyond those curbs, homes and stores flank the pathway in carefully placed patterns of building and street. Small backroads and trails break away from the main artery to lead to the two northern quarters of Crown's Refuge that the Northern Pathway runs as a divide between. ::The towering fortification known as Tempest Spire looms overhead towards the south, giving you a constant bearing of where you are located within Crown's Refuge. The residential quarter known as Wolfsbane's Row rests towards the east, existing as a neat collection of residential houses and streets in which the Human Wildlanders live. Adjacent to this towards the west spans the quarter of the freehold known as Snowfall Basin; a cold-water lagoon around which the Syladris Wildlanders of Crown's Refuge live. ---- The acarit push, and push - Kallyn claims one more, and between Meian and Graham, they make short work of the one clinging to him. Only three guard hold the top of the ladder now, but the Acarit ignore it, pilling down the wall and into the streets of this part of the Refuge. ::Yet, from the west comes a rallying cry - "BLOOD GUARD! FOR THE LADY!" And the sound of running feet - reinforcements, some covered in green, some bleeding - but they come. And they come with fire in their eyes and bows and crossbows at the ready. The acarit on the wall pause - some glowing with eldrich energy, as they rally against this unexpected development.. The redhead tenses as she is overtaken by the crackling electricity of an acarit, but comes out entirely unscathed. She grins, a sadistic chuckle escaping her lips as her own lightning erupts from her left hand, "Two can play at that game!" The chaotic blue-white sparks are directed at the creature that attacked her. "I'll not abandon the wall while you three are still on it," Graham shouts, ducking a poorly aimed gob of spit. The miner glances over in the direction of the cry and exclaims, "Hold a bit longer, we've friends coming." He lunges at the nearest acarit, attempting to run it through. Two acarits leap at Sandrim, but... they miss, flying past, despite the fact that the young man doesn't really look like he's reacted much at all to them. "You're injured," he says, tone worried and a bit angry. "Get off the wall." He turns swiftly, slshing out at the second of the two acarits that attacked. "Hold a little longer? Just a little longer..." repeats Meian, ducking abruptly under more flying loogies. "...distraction time." And, kukri brandished, the girl begins to outright *run* down the wall- in mid-step, daring to close her eyes for that half a second, that momentary time needed to *change*... and once she's got the clearance? Her form simply melts away, deliquescing into pure Shadow for that eyeblink before it reforms into a towering thing, a lumbering violet bear with steely claws and steely teeth. And still she runs, taking advantage of the lack of defenders left to try and literally steamroller acarits off the wall in her wake. "FOR THE REFUGE!" the bear roars, deep voice resonant and eyes a baleful pink. This wall is rapidly being lost - just under forty acarits are holding the eastern side - barely a dozen blood guard remain, and perhaps twenty irregulars, plus those that fight. The speed of the spider-beasts is telling, and slowly, slowly, they push the remainder off the wall. And heading from the western edges of the palisade, among others, Vhramis steadily approaches to link up with the rest of the defenders, the man seemingly ignoring a dead acarit stubbornly clinging to his shoulder. Lagging behind him are two other pathfinders, though they steadily catch up. Knives are sheathed swiftly, and the longbow slid down his shoulder once again, the ranger drawing a bead on...well...anything with more than four legs. Blackfox sprints in from the west, raising her arbalest, a woman dressed in the uniform of Havensguard on her heels, longbow in hand. Neither of them waste any breath on words, assessing the situation and launching bolt and arrow into the midst of the attacking acarits. Thayndor Zahir runs alongside the Pathfinders, stopping somewhat before they do. "For Darkwater," he yells, "And the Deepers!" He targets the acarit that earlier attempted to electrocute Kallyn, and looses an arrow. Celeste brings up the rear. She's green and sticky, but it doesn't slow her pace. Even the mace is covered with green goo now. ::And with them comes more - Another twenty blood guard, and perhaps ten irregulars - the tide, it seems, has begun to swing. And they too draw bow - at least in part, the remainder charging forward to join the fray.. The tide turns indeed - the sudden ragged arrowstorm takes its toll on the Acarit behind, a handful falling - one of Vhamris's Pathfinders find their mark as well, while Vhamris, Fox, and the Havensguard find themselves aiming well, but the dratted little things just /quick/. Thayndor's shot too, misses - more as the thing hunkers down to endure Kallyn's return lightnings - but Sandrimm claims another as it tries to do.. something, only to be bisected. The massive bear that is Meian barely fits on that pallisade wall - but charge she does, crushing one underfoot, but the rest leaping out of her way like hyperactive fleas, offering a screaming hiss that is remarkable in its sudden warning. ::But they rally - and strike back, four of them gathering flame, sending balls of arcane and eldritch fire at the reinforcements. Up on the wall, the spiders suddenly concentrate on that bear - it relieves a bit of the pressure, but... the fight continues. Kallyn hefts her blade to redirect another strike of blue-white electricity, barely managing to keep it off of her before she stabs at the little bastard that casted the lightning. Steely eyes shift violently, still full of that competitive and decidedly evil-looking gleam. The redhead definitely enjoys combat a little too much. Graham hears a roar racing at him and catches a glimpse of light from the corner of an eye. The miner instinctively throws himself flat as the flames explode in the space he just left. He rolls to a crouched position, glancing around for an enemy, and swings wildly at the nearest acarit. One might think Sandrim had been through a hundred battles by the way he reacts when the horrendous, monstrous magic spider charges him. Namely, he doesn't, much, and the spider flies by him yet again. And yet again, the sword goes in a swift, sharp arc for his assailant. "If you're not going to get off the wall, stay down, Graham," he says through gritted teeth. That bear's huge and rather swift, but not swift enough- though it avoids some of the acarits' mucus projectiles, a couple still do hit and begin to congeal green against violet fur. An enraged roar bursts forth from the beast's throat and, marshalling its massive size and strength it still bursts forward, huge paws swatting at acarits left and right wherever it Wolfsbane and company instinctively flatten as the arcane attack soars inwards, before leaping up again to group together, drawing their bows and loosing a volley against the attacking acarits. They pause, then, abruptly turning back the way they came. The three stare for a moment, before a few words are uttered, and they dash back from whence they came. Holding their ground, Blackfox and Serena each take aim at a fireball throwing little spider thing, arbalest and longbow releasing their deadly projectiles through the air. "Stand still!" Thayndor grouses, perhaps to the Wolfsbane he stands next to. Brow furrowing, then relaxing, he arcs another arrow at the magical acarit as Blood Guard, irregulars and Fasthelders pour past him to join the fray. ::The incoming hail of fireballs isn't enough to make Thayndor Zahir so much as flinch, but Vhramis and the Pathfinders turning catches his attention. "Where are you going?" He calls after them, drawing another arrow. Celeste tightens her grip on the mace. The retreat of the rangers doesn't even draw a blink as the Mikin seems intent on the large Bear. She raises the mace and takes aim at one of the acarits. The irregulars take the worst of those fireballs - nearly a quarter of the remaining brave hunters and rangers burning as the flame washes an roars around them - the rest retreat, but hold, if not firmly. The blood guard presses forward, regardless - "FOR THE LADY!" It rallies them. Steadies them. Starts to push back the acarit they now outnummber.. The Pathfinders may not find their mark, this time - bu Fox, the Havensguard, and Thayndor do - Thayndor actually stealing that lightning-blasting acarit even before Kallyn manages to swing, thieving her revenge, it seems. Celeste even manages to crush one herself, as she charges in to the front lines, as does the massive bear, that is Meian, roaring and covered in green. ::The blood guard begin to fell their share, in fact. ::But it seems there's at least one last trick up their sleeves - the Acarit do their best to hold the line as the last two fireball wielders try once more. ::More telling, even as others try to glue the bear down still - one of the acarits shivers and, engulfed in shadow, grows to match that bear - as a bear of its own, in spindly and gaunt black, with glowing blue eyes, roaring a challenge and charging forward, a towering colossus in its own right. Kallyn's luck in dodging /everything/ thrown at her throughout this battle finally runs out. Two huge globs of sticky green acarit snot paste the redhead in place, eliciting a growl of annoyance. She doesn't even try to pull out of the mass, merely closing her eyes with a sigh and then vanishing entirely as if blown away by a breeze. Invisible and insubstantial, the redhead steps out of the mass and then calls down to Thayndor, "You stole my kill, asshole!" The miner begins to turn, looking for his next opponent, but fails to notice the giant gob of green stuff hurtling towards him. The blob hits Graham's legs and right arm, holding them fast to the wall. He tugs at the junk but with no luck and says, "Blasted shadow monsters. Get this goo off of me before something takes another bite!" "Focus, Kallyn!" Sandrim calls out, sidestepping the goo easily. "Focus on what matters." He notices Graham getting plastered out of the corner of his eye and curses, making his way to stand over the man, slashing at an acarit he passes along the way. The great violet bear, even as spattered by goo as she is? She roars and bats away the black bear's paw. The moment of distraction, though, hits her with yet another glorp of the mucus. Before it hardens she ducks under the next with surprising grace... only to find herself plastered to the ramparts. Another terrible, harsh roar, and the bear- flicks entirely out of existence, gone as surely as if she was never there, to the naked eye. The departing rangers? Well, they hear that roar of yet another incoming fireball. Having learned their lesson well the cost of being too slow, they again throw themselves heavily to the side, covering their heads, and through the grace of the Light come out unscathed. Looking up, they scramble to their feat. "The syladris. He's not here," Vhramis calls back to Thayndor, breath heavy. "We need to find him...and perhaps check the spire." They continue to dash off, eager to avoid any more fireballs. Tears sting Blackfox's eyes from the smoke of the burning bodies, her belly turning at the smell as she shudders at the sounds of their screams. But still, she does her duty by the Refuge, holding her position and raising her weapon, her and Serena firing another volley into the acarits. "If you see Otto Stonefish, tell him where I am!" Thayndor calls after Vhramis, returning his focus to the magespiders who hurled fireballs after the rangers. Perhaps covering their retreat, he looses an arrow in reply. "This is isn't a competition," he mutters to himself, shouldering the bow and drawing his shield from his back instead. He draws his sabre and advances through the smoke-filled moonlight towards Graham, apparently intent on joining Sandrim to form a new front of the battle. The moonbeams reflected in his stormy eyes glimmer murderously. Celeste tries to wheel about as one of the acarits leap at her. A soft yelp elicits it from her lips and the mace swings to try and dislodge to the creature as lands on the breast. And still the blood guard forges ahead as acarit resistance crumbles - the irregulars, however, start to fall back, looking for range to help... The spindly, massive bear leaps down from the wall - a short jump for a monster that has the top of it reaching mid-chest - and it barrels, charging, roaring, snarling, into the blood-guard line. To their credit, they falter only so far, doing their best to stand against it. More acarit fall, though - one to fox, though most of the heroes here are less than successful; the one on Celeste maneuvers out of the way of that mace and many shots go wild. ::The remaining acarit, though - save those locked in melee - begin to retreat, running for the wall - decimated as a whole. All those who have been bitten by leapers will begin to feel.. woozy. It becomes harder to focus (all magic skills are at -1), and your arms will start to grow heavy (-1 to attacks and dodges). Something was in those bites.... ::From the west, crusty and green, comes a certain large wolf, Velvel, making good time, if stiffly, for Fox. "I know, I know," Kallyn calls to Sandrim, her invisible form making towards Graham. Most of the acarits retreating, the redhead ignores them and rematerializes with sword in hand to examine the goo that binds the miner, "Light, how am I supposed to get this stuff off of you...?" Graham tugs at the goo with all of his strength, fingers trying to find purchase in the green material, but it won't budge. The miner looks up at Kallyn and asks, "Can you help me lass?" as everything begins to feel a little off. "Chop him out," Sandrim says, swaying to one side to evade another ball of goo. "I'll hold them off while you do, alright? So take care of it quickly. The goo-spitting acarit gets a downward cleave, from his claymore. The violet bear reforms somewhat outside of her gooey prison, but unfortunately? A good deal of that goo is clinging to fur, hanging in great chunks that visibly impede the beast's motion. Still? With a mighty challenging roar, she leaps down from the wall, attempting to pounce upon the spindlier bear like clumsy vengeance from above. Still choking down bile, Blackfox is heartened by the return of her lupine companion, standing by her side as the arbalest is loaded and fired again. This time she takes careful aim for the head of the giant bear. Off to one side, Serena draws another arrow and nocks it, firing off a shot at a stray acarit. Thayndor Zahir dodges the goop, stepping forward to thrust his blade at the spider-thing that launched it. "We'd best prepare," he cries. "These things are doubtless not the only weapons sent against us." Celeste continues to wrestle with the acarit that seems to have lodged itself to her armor. Her eyes lose focus, and it is with effort she tries to swing at the beast. One more blood guard falls, felled by acarit spit across the face, suffocating as he's glued to the ground... but slowly, they begin the process of wiping out those that assail them. Even the bear accounts for no casualties, as shield and blade turn claws.. ::The last few acarit fall, the ones holding back the rest - Sandrim and Thayndor account for theirs, and Fox's arrow takes the Bear-thing mid stride as it is distracted by the druid-bear's charge. But Celeste is savaged by the rabid acarit that goes for chinks in her armor, the Scourge frantically trying to get the thing /off/. Immediately setting to work trying to pry the goo from Graham, Kallyn's eyes go to his momentarily and her brows knit. "You still with me, Graham?" she asks, wedging her shortsword into the green mass and being careful not to harm the man trapped within. The bearded man slowly at his face with his left hand and smiles stupidly, pupils huge in the light. "Of course I'm with you Kallyn," Graham says cheerfully, "We're guarding the wall." He looks around nodding to Celeste before glancing back at the young mage helping him. "I didn't realize you could glow. It's nice but could you stop? Everything is already so bright." Sandrim blinks as everything goes quiet, then looks around. "I... think we did it," he says, before noticing Celeste and grimacing, but the task of saving her goes to some closer, and the young man sheathes his sword before kneeling down to try and help Kallyn, somehow. Now that the bear's on the ground? With an angry snarl, she lunges towards Celeste, one great paw sweeping out- not to harm the scourge, but clawing and scratching at the attached acarit. She continues to move clumsily, weighed down by all the goop as she still is. Seeing the acarits routed, Blackfox leaps upon Velvels' back, pulling Serena up behind her, "We should see if the rest of the refuge is secure!" she calls out, wheeling the great wolf about as she tries to get a sense for the battle elsewhere. Thayndor Zahir removes shield and puts away sword, resting in stillness for a long moment -- stillness, that is, except for the steady rising and falling of his shoulders as he catches his breath. ::The smoke has not yet settled. Thayndor Zahir takes a few steps to watch Meian-bear dispense with the last assailant along the wall, and when he does, his bootsteps are accentuated by the disgusting squelch of ichor, acarit-bodies, crunching chitin and human blood. With the only sounds of battle coming from the roaring bear, the battlements are relatively quiet. ::It is only now that Thayndor can stop and listen to the cries of the wounded, the utter lack of clanging steel and voices raised in urgency. But he does not find peace in that sound, or absence of sound. ::"Something is wrong," Thayndor says, turning to follow Blackfox. "The night is not yet over." ::Lord of Darkwater, seeker of redemption, bald head gleaming in the moonlight but otherwise uninjured, stalks off in search of another battlefield. Celeste's eyes go wide at the onslaught of the bear. She gives another futile attempt at trying to dislodge the acarit. The bloody creatures seems to have fastened itself to her armor. Well - that last little rabid spider apparently is being troublesome. It does /not/ let go - instead, skittering around the scourge to avoid mace and bear alike... and getting another dig in. Atop Velvel, "Where is Eliare?" Fox asks, scanning the fallen, "I saw no sign of him." Freeing Graham, Kallyn's attention is diverted to all of the commotion centered around Celeste. She leaves Graham in Sandrim's care with a quick, "Something's wrong, keep an eye on him," and then slides down the nearest ladder to help assist the noblewoman. "Hold still, Celeste," she says firmly, before attempting to flick the little creature off with her shortsword. Graham squints at Kallyn, left hand raised as if to shield his eyes, and notices, seemingly for the first time, the blood on his arm. "Thought I took a bath," he mumbles, raising an eyebrow in confusion. The miner looks down at all the commotion and states, "Looks like that woman's shriekweasel isn't behaving, good thing her husband's trying to help." "Alright, Graham, easy does it," Sandrim says, starting to try and help the man down onto the ground. "Let's get you to the Spire, alright? The healers are there." Slowly, if Graham isn't too unhelpful, he heads down the ladder with the man. The bear lumbers back as Kallyn approaches, letting out a growl of frustration. It begins a rough-edged, animalistic sound, and halfway through? It abruptly switches to a high-pitched woman's snarl, as swift as the transition from massive crusty animal to tiny crusty woman in a flourish of Shadow. "Get OFF!" she tells the acarit, kukri in hand flashing out to slash at it. "Not at the wall," Thayndor says to Blackfox, stopping next to the woman and her wolf. "If she was here, we would have known." He looks back, and up at the spire. "I have two men remaining here who are unaccounted for, and I must find them." ::Finally! Kallyn flicks it away - Meian stabs the darned thing - and it twitches, snarls, and lies still. ::Hallelujah! ::To the south, at the spire - the faint sounds of conflict can still be heard, the shouts of men at war. A sigh of relief comes from the redhead as they finally kill the stubborn little bug. The feeling does not last, however, as Kallyn looks to the south at the sounds, "The Spire! There is fighting at the Spire!" Either she feels there are enough others to tend to the injured or she's caught up in the moment. Whatever it is, the young mage girl takes off towards the Spire without looking back. Atop Velvel, Blackfox has already heard the sounds of battle from the south, Velvel growling low in her throat as she turns in that direction. Graham makes it down the ladder easy enough, with help from Sandrim. He looks at the dagger in his right hand, eyes more focused than a moment ago, and says, "Oh right, we're fighting." The miner looks around, shrugs, then turns to Sandrim, "Looks like we won. Is that why my arm hurts?" Thayndor Zahir picks up his own pace to keep up with the wolf, wordlessly unslinging his bow -- unhurt and unencumbered, but sweaty, singed, and bald. Meian nods her agreement, sighing in relief as the acarit falls away. She doesn't run off *just* yet, however, waiting to see if Celeste needs an arm in support before she too heads south. Celeste rubs at her forehead. Though there's little reprieve as she begins to stumble towards the spire. Her grip tightens and it hurrying at a limp after the others. Category:Logs